Not much to blog about except it’s great to be back with the needles again:)!! And no, I don’t mean the ones filled with drugs (silly), the ones with yarn wrapped around them:)!
I figure since I’ve already got eighteen gazillion projects going, was only right to…
START A NEW PROJECT!!!
So I’m trying my hand at the Windesbraut Bertha- a lovely shawl by Monika Eckert a/k/a Klabauter. So far so good.
On the more boring news front, let me tell ya what happened:
John and I showed up at St. Agnes Hospital at 9:45 a.m. They took soon blood from my arm (the first of many on my two-and-a-half-day stay). W sat in the waiting room where hospital staff took our names and other relevant info, probably to rule us out as terrorists.
When someone called my name, I went back again- this time to get the street clothes off and get the sterile gown on. So far so good. Then John came back to join me. I was hooked up to a water bag via an IV. The surgeon came in, signed off on the paperwork, had me sign the consent forms (again, LOL) this time without my glasses (hmmmmm). Next thing I knew, a medical student was introducing herself and asking for permission to watch my surgery-absolutely!-
then the most lovely substance was injected into the IV and I was a complete goofball. At some point , the anesthesiologist came in, then it was show time.
I have some vague memories of being wheeled to the OR and the next thing I knew, I was being wheeled into my room and heard someone saying, “OK Patricia, you’re in your room now.” out of the corner of my blurry vision I could see John and Ann M our parish nurse. Ann has taught a number of the nurses at St. Agnes, but hadn’t seen any of her students yet.
The room was in the new wing- I think it was larger than John’s first apartment – and the way I felt, I couldn’t have cared less.
I won’t lie- this HURT. I had a pain pump- a line of dilaudid (a form of morphine) that I could trigger without overdosing. I was still in pain, especially in the center of my chest, but I figured it was because my stomach was now not far from my chest and it had just been through The Wars. I also later found out the doc had found a hernia – am assuming hiatal- and had fixed it. Color me impressed- but sore!
Anyway, dear Ann stayed with me even after John had to leave to get some sleep before work, spoke with me as I hit moments of consciousness and cleaned my dry mouth (couldn’t take anything by mouth until the next day). She left me a sweet note when she went home- angel of mercy. I am so blessed, am I not? That night, they wanted me walking, but I could only sit up for a bit.
The rest of the hospital stay was generally icky. I craved sleep and got little, but that’s being in the hospital. I was glad when I hit the goal of passing the upper GI test and could take in fluids, including tea and sugar-free Jello. Then they took out the catheter- which gave me new opportunities to walk- and I did.
Then it was pureed food. Then I got to clean up and clean my – by then- foul mouth and I’m not talking curse words. That was rather nice. Then they took out the drain in my tummy (weird) and gave me some instructions to add to the booklet my doc’s office had already provided, and joy of joy, I got to get dressed and go home.
But it still hurt -and it was slow going. A colleague who had it done two days earlier was already set to go back to work this Monday! Good for him. He encouraged me to do more walking (yes, John too, sigh…) and I have been. But for some reason, my abdominal pain continues, but lessens every day.
Today I almost made it down the street to my mailbox. Tomorrow I’m going for the gold! Rah!
I’ve lost a few pounds but will only post monthly numbers and I’m not there yet.
In short, I’m healing and I’m off through the 26th, so I have time to really do it.
Did I forget to tell you I love my job?